The scorned princess

Mother

That day, she stayed with her mother the whole day, and when night came, both women were hesitant to split. Five years was a long time to catch up in one day. Margaret told her mother many stories about the village and her mentor and how she had made a life there. She told her about everything ... but Alex. Alex would be her little secret, no matter what. She couldn't believe he was alive or would have come for her. He would have married her already. There was no way that if he were still alive, he would have let this happen.

And it hurt. It hurt so much to think about that. So, no, she would not be sharing her memory of Alex. Not because she didn't want her mother to find out, to keep it for herself, to cherish his existence in her life without anyone judging their love or her lies or ... anything.

So she talked about everything that wasn't him. She momentarily tried to forget the pain in her chest, distracting her mind with fond memories of Salesburry. And her mother was just as eager to hear about those five years she lived away from the palace. Marissa couldn't believe just how much her baby had grown. She was no longer an ignorant child; she knew the hardship of life among ordinary people and empathized with them.

Five years ago, she sent away a pampered princess who knew only how to please the masses and be ... that, a princess. She had no other depth, ambitions, dreams, or anything else... Margaret, who left the palace five years ago, had only one thing on her mind: to please the emperor and make sure she would make her mother proud.

But the girl who came to see the empress that day was entirely different. When she spoke of the village, there was a spark in her eyes, a genuine smile. Even her voice seemed to be livelier.

Maybe, just maybe, all of this was needed. She needed to get out of this suffocating palace to find herself.

Marissa caressed her daughter's hair briefly, a soft smile gracing her face.

"Maggy, darling, I'm so proud of you."

The girl blushed, not expecting those words, but kept quiet, looking at her mother with mixed feelings.

"You made the best of that situation, and I would be a fool not to recognize it. Any mother would be proud to call you their daughter."

Margaret smiled shyly but shook her head. "I don't think so, Mother. My carelessness got me in that position, to begin with."

The woman sighed but knew better than to argue with her daughter over that. Margaret was always like that, stubborn and incredibly critical of herself. She would ponder every small mistake for hours and find fault in anything she did.

"Maggy, don't be so harsh on yourself," said the empress as she slowly shook her head.

"I ... I'm sorry, it's just ... I need to make you proud even more now."

She meant her engagement with Alistair Oakley. She wanted to ask her father to free her from it, but seeing her mother, knowing that she was never really left alone and that someone still needed her, it made Margaret quite incapable of trying to run from it. It was easier yesterday when she still believed her mother hated her. It was easier to fail the imperial family when no one expected anything from her.

"Don't worry about making me proud, darling ... It's getting late. You should go back to your rooms and try to get some rest."

After she made a respectful curtsy to her mother, Margaret took her leave. Her head was full of that discussion she just had with her mother. As soon as she was in her room, she slipped into a cotton nightgown and went to bed.

But all night, sleep evaded her like a mouse evades a cat. She thought about Alex, how she missed him, how she probably wouldn't see him again if he was, by miracle, still alive. She thought about Leon and her friend, Annah, the village, the days and nights. She even thought about how cold she would be if she were in her bed over there, and it made her chuckle. It wouldn't be too different than the night before.

Margaret turned and tossed all night, not catching a wink of sleep. Morning came to fast and too slow. The night felt like it would drag on forever, yet she didn't feel ready to leave her bed.

She was sitting in a long chair in her room reading one of her old books when a maid knocked on the door.

"Her Majesty wanted to know if her Highness knew anything about the ball tonight."

She couldn't help but raise a brow at that question. What ball? No one mentioned anything about a ball.

The maid continued: "Her Majesty offers you one of her dresses and sent her jewelry box for you to choose anything that would please you, your Highness."

Mathilda stepped forward and took the box and dress the empress had sent.

"Thank her for me, please," said Margaret as she looked over the jewelry box and the very luxurious dress she just received.

And for the next two hours, the princess did that, staring at the dress, at the priceless jewels her mother gave her for the night. It was gorgeous, no doubt. But Margaret did feel like she should put it on. She didn't deserve it, not yet. Her mother was too kind, once again.

The youngest princess couldn't bring herself to put any of it. And she tried to convince herself until it was almost too late. She even thought about not showing up at all... but her mother sending her a dress made it clear that she expected Margaret at the ball.